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by pwk072347



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:41:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26156692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pwk072347/pseuds/pwk072347
Summary: "I don't know. Family, stability... The guy who wanted all that went in the ice 75 years ago. I think someone else came out."Steve contemplates the meaning of home and family after the Battle of Sokovia.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Kudos: 17





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**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written five years ago, likely right after _Age of Ultron_ came out in theatre, and before any of the remaining MCU movies were shown. So I apologize for any canon divergence from actual events that might appear.
> 
> Thanks Valeria for the beta and feedback all those years ago :)

The Maximoff girl fell.

He felt his breath caught as he saw the girl in black dress and red jacket fell through the air as though in slow motion, her arms flailing but there was nothing for her to catch. He thought he had to do something – _he had to save her_ – but his feet were stuck to the ground like they have grown roots.

It wasn’t until he heard the sound of something hitting the mattress, and the bell-like giggle of the girl chimed from down below, that he realized where he was and what he was doing. He put his hand to his chest, and felt his heart racing twice the speed as it normally should.

Natasha walked over to give Maximoff a hand, but the girl had already gotten onto her feet, jumping down from the mattress and beaming excitedly at her. The morning sun shone through the French window of the new Avengers facility, shrouding them in a shade of warm yellow. It was just another day of basic training for the new recruits. Natasha was teaching Maximoff – more like experimenting with her – how to harness her supernatural powers to levitate herself. So far, they’ve made quite some progress.

He looked down at his hands, and was not surprised that they were clenched into tight fists. He still recalled the texture of that bumper in his hand as he grabbed hold of that car back in levitated Sokovia. The iron was burning hot from the summer heat, but it felt ice cold in his hands. Albeit he was only holding on to its tail, he managed to pull the car back from falling. But somewhere deep inside his head, somewhere so deep that he had forgotten it even existed, a voice said to him: _It’ not enough. You know it’s not enough_.

The Maximoff girl was climbing the stairs up to the platform, ready for another go at flying. He turned away and didn’t look, though there was nothing else for him to do.

* * *

And of course she had to fall.

Deciding that he couldn’t bear to stay inside anymore, he came out to the lawn behind the facility. A group of S.H.I.E.L.D agents were running laps, shouting something in unison along the way, but he couldn’t hear them.

All he could hear was the terrified scream of the woman as the car detached from the bumper and plummeted from the bridge. He remembered how he froze on the brink of the bridge, unable to move. He thought he sensed a gush of freezing wind blew over him, though the Sokovian sun was scorching hot over his head. The horrified shriek of the woman seemed to have dropped an octave in his ears, and he half expected to hear the muffled thud when the body hit the thick layer of snow far below.

He sat down on one of the benches, and bathed in the warm sun. His heartbeat had slowed down a bit, though it was still making him uncomfortable. And a dull throb had begun to ache inside his head.

He recalled the last conversation he had with Stark on this lawn, before the billionaire left the facility for good. The sympathetic but slightly confused look on Stark’s face upon hearing what he said was, well, not unexpected. He supposed the concept of loss was still foreign to the entitled young man, even now.

He thought to himself, as he finally walked back toward the building, that what he said that day may not have been completely correct. Sure, he came out of the ice a different person, but he had lost the idea of home long before that.

He had lost it the day he lost **_him_**.

* * *

He didn’t look up from his lunch until a heavy folder was practically slammed onto the table next to his plate. He heard the scratch of chair legs, and Natasha sat down unceremonially next to him, propped her leg on another nearby chair, and began dismantling her Glock. When he shot her a quizzical look, she only indicated the folder with the clip of her gun without saying a word.

He opened the file, and was immediately confronted with colorful photos of houses and gardens and pompous promotional text bordering on lying. Upon closer inspection, he found that these houses were all within walking distance of his old place in Brooklyn – he can almost see the grubby streets and tattered walls beneath their current glamourous facade.

“Nat –” he began, but Natasha simply gestured with her hand, egging him to read on.

He turned the pages. The tiny font size and complicated calculations on the spreadsheets threatened to make his head ache again. He wondered maybe this was why he never actively looked into the matter of his uncollected military pay check since the forties. He reached the last age, and the sum seemed so surreal that he had to pinch his thighs.

Natasha finally looked up. “Heard you can’t afford a place in Brooklyn.”

He didn’t know what to say, so he just held the folder closely to his chest, and stared into the distance. The folder was heavy and full against his uniform, but he felt like something was missing, like there was a gaping hole in the middle of that picture of serenity and stability.

“Has Sam called in yet?”

He shook his head, and felt a warm hand landed softly on his shoulder.

* * *

He admitted he didn’t see Thor coming. Of course he knew the God of Thunder was among their allies, but since he was chasing the rabbit down memory lane, he couldn’t comprehend the presence of another at first.

All he saw was the flash of a red cape. But then the face of the falling woman, which was quickly becoming a dot in the chaotic background, suddenly loomed closer and grew clearer as Thor grabbed her and threw her up in one mighty, flawless swing. In that instant, he saw the familiar look of fear and despair on her face, but also the slight hint of an emotion that was absent from his reverie: _hope_.

So he shouted “grab my hand!” like he did on the train that day, and plunged. Their hands collided, and he grabbed hold of her tightly as he supported himself dangling from the edge of the bridge by his right hand. Both of their hands were slippery from the heat, but he knew he had her this time. “I’ve got you,” he said reassuringly, and the woman’s face broke into a relieved smile that he had wanted to see all those years ago.

Thor eventually pulled up another two men, along with their car, onto the bridge. As he watched the three of them flee toward safety, he felt something, as though a tiny founding stone was being laid in the seemingly bottomless hole inside him. But given that he had never discussed his past with Thor, he only smiled and threw a few lines of banter, and they resumed the fight together.

* * *

He returned to the training room after lunch, where basic training continued. As he walked down the corridors, junior agents saluted and greeted him in awe. Familiar faces came over to pat him on the back and chatted. It wasn’t until later that he realized his head wasn’t aching, and his heart wasn’t racing anymore.

When Natasha caught up with him, he was up to his neck trying to restrain a seething Maximoff from killing the Parker kid – all because the new kid couldn’t have enough at flipping her skirt. Natasha leaned against the wall, and looked amusingly at his face, which was under severe attack as Maximoff struggled to free herself. “Guess you don’t need that folder after all,” she commented casually as he finally settled the fight. He wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeves, and found he was grinning despite the tiresome ordeal.

Companionship, he thought as he walked back up the platform to where he stood this morning; that was the missing piece from his image of home. He looked down at the constantly moving figures of his teammates in practice, blurred by the soothing evening sun. It’s not complete yet, but it’s close. At least it felt like home now.

* * *

Later that night, he finally received the text from Sam.

“We found him, Cap. We found him.”

**Author's Note:**

> All kudos and comments are appreciated with immense gratitude :)


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